


Like A puppet On Strings

by Sevenbucks



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: :), Ambush, Blood, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, I'm probably going to do something with this concept eventuall, Violence, but have this for now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28458183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevenbucks/pseuds/Sevenbucks
Summary: When Fresh is ambushed by Ink, he notices the guardian doesn't seem so good...
Relationships: Error & Fresh
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	Like A puppet On Strings

**Author's Note:**

> I am not ready for 2020 so i wrote this to stave off anxiety uwu

Fresh had just settled into a new host when he was attacked.

It was a developing AU, the only fully progressed monster was the sans, none of the others were completely coherent or movable. Strangely convenient. The area was mostly blank, as if not much thought was put into it, and Fresh was a bit weirded out by the lack of any creativity. Not like Ink…

The parasite was just about to leave when he felt a tug on his leg. Looking down he saw a purple chain wrapped around his ankle, Fresh immediately fell into panic, how had he not noticed that? He yanked on the chain, kicking his foot forward, but to no avail. Growling in anxiety and frustration, Fresh glanced around attempting to see the source of the chain, only for it to suddenly snap taut and harshly pull Fresh by the ankle deeper into the AU’s woods, which were more developed than the rest. 

He eventually stopped in a small snowbank and was mercilessly thrown to the ground. Groaning, he attempted to stand up just to be kicked back down. Activating his magic in preparation he looked up to see the face of his attacker…

It was Ink. But something was off, he had his emotionless expression commonly seen when the creator was off his paints, only it was a bit strained. Almost uncomfortable. His breaths were short and many hitched and a single eyelight kept flickering in and out of life. It didn’t look right. He held the chain, the end trailing onto the snow below.

“Umm, Inky brah-”

The artist pulled on the chain without warning, flinging Fresh into the air, who let out a yelp when he was pulled back down just as fast. Breathing heavily he glanced up at Ink, who had let go of the chain and was slowly advancing towards him. He pushed his cracked YOLO sunglasses up his nose bridge.

“Hey now, ya don have ta attack me-”

Ink summoned a bone attack in his hand.

Fresh tensed, gulping. He could feel the malicious but distant intent from the other. 

‘Fresh, think think think you can’t take him on and he’ll just follow ya through a portal! Ya gotta escape!’

Fresh glanced around their surroundings but his attention was soon turned back to Ink as he launched himself at him, holding the bone attack the same way Killer held his knives.

Fresh yelped and rolled out of the way and began to run. He narrowly dodged three more attacks sent his way and sprinted faster as he heard the pounding of footsteps behind him. His breaths were so loud in his ears that he didn’t hear the telltale sound of a shortcut, and by the time he noticed the sound of running was gone it was too late.

Ink appeared before him and slammed the bone attack into his ribs.

\- - - - -

Fresh gasped for breath, holding himself upright with a tree. Ink had been beating him over and over for what felt like an hour. He coughed, acid pink blood leaking from his teeth. Ink had beaten him around for at least twenty minutes, the chain shackle still left on his ankle had prevented him from using his magic.

He felt his panic rise to extreme levels as Ink came ever closer. One more blow and Fresh would be unconscious. In a last ditch attempt Fresh slid to his knees and grasped a rock. He waited as Ink walked over torturously slow. With the rest of his strength, Fresh aimed the rock at Inks socket and threw it as hard as he could, and by pure dumb luck, it hit its target. Ink, temporarily distracted, lost control of the shackle and it dissolved into purple paint. Fresh used his last magic reserves and opened a portal beneath him, dropping him into the anti-void.

He stayed in one spot on his hands and knees, gasping for air. He stared at the white floor and barely heard someone shout his name. He coughed up more blood, and whimpered, clutching his ribs. He registered someone falling to their knees in front of him and cool, gentle hands cupping his face.

“Please…” Fresh barely whimpered out. “Make it stop…”

Fresh flinched in his pain-filled haze as arms wrapped around him, but these ones were gently. He slowly relaxed into their soft, warm embrace, feeling safe. A few stray tears fell down his face as the person carefully wiped his wounds, stopping for a moment every time he winced. He felt them shift his position and he whined as he was moved, but then felt himself be slowly put down on what he assumed was their lap. 

Gentle hands rubbed his skull, reassuring Fresh as he felt his bones be bandaged, he fell asleep to a soothing, vibrating voice singing a quiet song.

_ _ _ _ _

He awoke again, in the same position, but he was gripping on to a multicoloured hand and the sound of a TV show. His bones ached but felt way better than before. He took note of a few blue strings that held his bandages together.

“Welcome back to the living world, idiot.” A glitchy voice spoke from above him. Fresh glanced up to Error mock-glaring at him. His expression softened as Fresh blinked up at him. “How are ya feeling?”

Fresh shifted a little bit. “Sore,” he said hoarsely. “But better.”

Error nodded then looked back up at the glitchy portal-window he had opened, displaying Undernovela. He absentmindedly stroked Fresh’s skull, and gently ran a phalange over the rim of his eye socket, probably messing up his purple eyeliner. Fresh then realised he didn’t have his glasses on, and was quick to ask Error about it.

“Don’t worry, I fixed them up for you. You can take them back when I say you're ready to leave.”

Fresh then relaxed back, head still on Error’s lap, when he thought of something that bothered him.

“Hey, E?”

“Mh.”

“When Inky-bruh attacked me today, he seemed a bit... weird.”

Error snorted,”The bastard’s always weird. Your point?”

“Naw like, he all up n’ did it outta nowhere.” Fresh frowned. “Not a word outta him either. Jus seemed… empty. But not off his paints empty, like… possession empty.”

Error frowned when Fresh dropped his accent. “Possession?”

Fresh nodded, then winced at the pain in his neck. “Yeah, like a puppet on strings.”

Error stopped his hand and seemed to stiffen. “A puppet on strings…” Fresh moved his skull to look at the other but the multicoloured hand then continued its gentle touch, carefully pushing him back down.

“Go to sleep, we’ll talk about it later.” 

Even as Fresh drifted off again, he couldn’t help but think about the extra glitchiness in Error’s voice, the look on Inks face, or the looming feeling of being unsafe.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Happy new year!


End file.
